


Rejection Letter

by Taliax



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, In this house Phantom Planet is Not Canon, Not Phantom Planet Compliant, Post D-Stabilized though, Two Shot, a little bit of one-sided Gray Ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-21 23:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16585976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliax/pseuds/Taliax
Summary: Even after fighting ghosts, it's the human failures that hurt Danny the worst.  Unfortunately for him, he's not the only one who didn't get accepted to college.





	1. Failure

**Author's Note:**

> AU where each season took a separate year of high school, so D-Stabilized happened in junior year, and this takes place a little less than a year later.

XXXXXX

_Dear Daniel,_

_The admissions committee has reviewed your application for admission for the fall of 2008.  I regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you admission to Elmerton Community College and that we will not be holding reapplications this term.  Please be assured that we gave your application a very careful review before making this difficult decision._

_I regret to inform you… We are unable to offer you admission..._

_We will not be holding reapplications…_

A drop of water stained the already-crumpled rejection letter.  That didn’t stop him from crumpling it again, with all the force of his Phantom form.  He could have incinerated it with a weak ectoblast - or a strong one - but he shouldn’t draw attention to himself.  He wasn’t expecting any ghosts after catching Skulker in a thermos this afternoon, but there could always be some dumb humans out.  Stupid “paranormal investigators,” making stupid documentaries no one outside the city would even believe.  He didn’t want anyone like that finding his hiding place at the top of the park’s tallest aspen.  Especially now.

_We are unable…_

He grit his teeth and smeared the back of his gloved hand across his eyes.  What had he expected?  His grades hadn’t exactly been stellar all of high school.  And it wasn’t like he could include “classified as a spectral entity level seven,” “saved Amity Park from being sucked into another dimension,” or “can walk through walls, disappear, and fly” on his college application.  

His future had been shot from the moment he stepped out of that portal.  Why had he wasted four years pretending otherwise?

His shoulders shook as he wrapped his arms around his knees.  A cut on his right calf - Skulker always left at least one mark on his pelt - brought more stinging saltwater to his eyes.  That’s what he blamed it on, anyway.

_Pathetic,_ he thought, as darkly as if Spectra had sapped the light from him.   _Amity’s ‘hero,’ crying over some stupid school._ If anyone _did_ see him...  He briefly considered going invisible, but decided it would take more energy than it was worth.  Anyone outside at this hour shouldn’t be able to pick his black suit out against the night sky, and his white hair would blend seamlessly with the aspen’s skeletal branches.  His aura was too dim to give him more than a faint outline.

Besides, at this point, he didn’t really care what anyone else thought about him.  It was too late for that.

He should have known after the first three rejection letters.  Those had stung - as had the loaded silences from the other three colleges he’d applied to.  But Elmerton - _everyone_ got in to Elmerton.  The community college was his last ditch effort, a place he could’ve scraped together some generals before transferring somewhere else, somewhere with a space program.  But he hadn’t even managed that.

He chuckled, but it came out mixed with a sob.

“I really am a failure, aren’t it.”

No matter how many ghosts he defeated - no matter how many times he crammed Technus back into a thermos, or blasted Skulker out of the sky - none of it mattered.  What was he going to do, fight ghosts forever? He’d thought about that, back in freshman, sophomore year.  But ghost hunting didn’t pay the bills - not the way he did it, anyway.  Not even the way his parents did; their funding came exclusively from selling their inventions, not wielding them.  His only shot at a career in ghost fighting would be with the Guys in White, and he’d rather drop dead - _fully_ dead - than even consider that.

More water dripped down onto his knees.  Stupid.  His ghost form shouldn’t even have the physiology to make tears.  Not that his body seemed to care what should be possible.

“What am I going to tell Mom?”  He muttered to himself, running his hands through his hair.  She was so proud of Jazz, who was off at Yale.  Dad would take it better, probably.  Would they even be surprised?  He barked out a laugh.  For all he knew, they might have given up on him already.  He hadn’t been able to hide how pathetic his grades were.  Last semester’s last-ditch effort to save them couldn’t make up for the three previous years of near-constant ghost fighting.  Not that the ghosts had given him a break recently, either.  Even if they had, he simply didn’t have the foundational knowledge he needed to complete Senior Year.  Algebra, Chemistry, English - he barely had a passing knowledge of the subjects he should’ve been learning the last four years.  He was lucky he would graduate at all.  Even that was probably just because his teachers were tired of braving conferences with his parents.

No, he’d never had a chance.

He hugged his knees tighter and stared up through the leafless branches.  The waning crescent moon cast a sliver of light; constellations twinkled between silhouetted clouds.  He didn’t feel like tracing them out tonight.

With a final sigh, he relaxed his fist.  The crumbled rejection fell through the branches below, bouncing off with a series of hollow rustles.

His future was just as dead as he was.

XXX

It was a quiet night - too quiet for Valerie.  Normally she wouldn’t mind.  Normally she’d be thankful to fly home and roll into bed, finally get a solid eight hours, for once.  But tonight she itched for something to hit, or better yet, something to blast into a million ectoplasmic pieces.  Her deflated punching back back home wouldn’t cut it.

_Not a single ghost,_ she thought bitterly.  She’d heard the news reports on the radio at the Nasty Burger; Phantom had taken out a big one today - Skulker, the description had sounded like.  After a fight like that, the weaker ghosts knew better than to try their luck.  For a day, at least.  Still, she’d hoped at least _one_ would be stupid enough.  They must know the kind of mood she was in.  They must know that this time she’d blow them apart before they could so much as shout “ _beware_.”

She let out a hissing sigh and wove through the trees, letting the wind rush around her.  That was almost as satisfying as blowing something apart.  Almost, but not quite.

_Dear Valerie,_

_The admissions committee has reviewed your application…_

She mentally mocked the words of her rejection letter.  Rejected!  Her!  Sure, she was still working overtime at Nasty Burger - and hunting ghosts all night - _and_ she was no longer receiving aid from that creep Vlad Masters - but she was smart.  She’d always been smart.  She’d always been… until she couldn’t even keep her eyes open in class.

And here she was, out at who-knew-what-hour of the night, not even hunting ghosts this time.  But it didn’t matter.  It wasn’t like she had to keep her grades up anymore.

Her dad was going to be furious when he found out.  That thought scared her as much as her lost dreams.  So she shoved it into the back of her mind and poured on the speed.  Faster and faster until -

She braked so hard the g-force smeared spots across her eyes.  Better than her being smeared against the tree she’d almost crashed into.  She reflexively retracted her board; her knees barely absorbed the shock of her landing.  She leaned against the stupid tree and took a few deep breaths.

“That would be my luck.  ‘Red Huntress: survives hundreds of ghost fights; dies by tree.’”  She snorted.  Then punched said tree.  It didn’t hurt through her suit, but it didn’t really make her feel better, either.

She slid down to sit on the leaf-littered ground with a sigh as it all hit her.  The fatigue, the hopelessness, the _loss._ It flooded into the space left by her draining adrenaline.

She couldn’t live like this.  Not forever.  She _couldn’t._

While she tried to piece together some alternatives to working at Nasty Burger forever, something caught her attention.  A sound.  A - sob?

Her first instinct was to power up her board and jet towards it, hoping it was a ghost she could destroy.  But ghosts didn’t sob.

_And humans don’t sit in treetops thirty feet in the air._ Because that was where the sound was definitely coming from - her suit pinpointed the source more accurately than she could on her own.  If that wasn’t enough, she also saw something fall from said treetop.

She crept closer, noting that whatever was falling was taking its time, but following the general laws of physics - not anything ectoplasmic.  It bounced off a low-hanging branch before landing among the dead leaves.  Her eyes flickered upward; whoever - or whatever - had dropped it had made no other moves.  She could still hear the faint sound of sobs.

Curiosity winning over, she stealthily avoided crunching the leaves and plucked out the fallen object, a tightly-crumpled wad of paper.

_Dear Daniel,_

_The admissions committee has reviewed your application for admission…_

Her eyes widened as she skimmed the rejection.  The very same rejection she’d received earlier today.  And from the clear teardrops staining it, it had been received about the same way.  But how - and why -

Daniel _._ That couldn’t be - but Amity Park was a small town, and in its one high school, she only knew one senior with the first name Daniel.

_“Danny?”_ She whispered impulsively, looking up again.  Her maybe-ex-boyfriend - if you could count a sophomore relationship as that - was way too scrawny to have made it up a tree like this.  Even if he _had_ put on a bit of muscle in the last couple of years - not that she was paying attention to something like that -

The sobs abruptly cut off.  All was silent; even with her enhanced suit, she couldn’t pick out the person’s breathing.  She cursed mentally.  She hadn’t meant to make herself heard, especially in her ghost-hunting gear.  Especially if it somehow _was_ Danny.  Maybe she should power down her suit - no, that would be too loud; better to not draw any more attention to herself.

The soft sound of crying slowly drifted down to her again.  Either they hadn’t heard her, or they didn’t care.

She glanced down at the crumpled rejection letter.  Back up at the bleached tree.  Sighed.

_This is a bad idea,_ she thought.  And then, utilizing the skill of several years of martial arts and ghost hunting, began to climb the tall aspen.

After all, what did she have to lose?

XXX

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me,” a familiar voice cut through his downward spiral of thoughts.  

_Great.  Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse._

“Leave me alone,” he muttered.  It was too late to preserve his dignity, and he _really_ didn’t want to fight her tonight.  Not that she ever gave him a choice.  “Don’t you have anything better to do than pick on me?”

She didn’t offer a snappy comeback.  Through reddened eyes, he saw her heave herself up onto a branch perpendicular to his.

“Not anymore, no,” was all the explanation she offered.  He turned away, keeping his back to the trunk so she wouldn’t see his pathetic, tear-streaked face.

That meant he couldn’t keep as good an eye on her, though.  She could easily shoot him at this range.  He tried to bring himself to care.

“How does everything always come back to you?”  She shot with words instead of weapons.  Maybe he should’ve been grateful, but instead hot anger flashed behind his eyes.

“ _Me?”_ He spat back.  “What are you going to blame me for this time, huh?  I just want _one night_ where I don’t have to-“

“It’s _your fault_ all of this started!”  She shouted, standing up on the limb and jabbing a finger towards him.  “If you hadn’t attacked Axiom-!”

“That was _four years ago!”_ He levitated to a less compromising position, suddenly realizing that he _did_ care about getting shot.  Especially knowing what kind of canons she carried on the gauntlets of her suit.  “When are you going to-!  Oh, crap.”

His eyes widened as he saw what she held crumpled in her other hand.  She hadn’t - what had she heard?  He hadn’t muttered anything that connected him with Danny Fenton, right?  Mostly he’d just been crying, and… and had dropped that rejection letter.

“What?”  She seemed momentarily startled out of her anger, then glanced at the paper in her hand.  Her eyes hardened.  “Don’t tell me you’re the reason Danny got rejected from Elmerton too.”

_You could say that,_ he thought as he hid a wince. Then something clicked.

“ _You_ got rejected from Elmerton?”  He stared.  Her dark look confirmed it.  “But- but you’re freaking _smart!_ They’d have to be stupid to reject you!”  Or else Elmerton was harder to get into than he’d thought.  That idea brightened his mood slightly.

“What do you care, ghost scum?  It’s your fault anyway.”

In the moment that he opened his mouth to protest, she fired.  A purple beam took him straight in the chest, right over his logo.  He flew back, crashing through clawlike branches before reaching open air.

He made the only smart decision he could: he kept flying.  If Valerie had been rejected from college, she’d be in an even worse mood than him.  Better not stick around and become collateral damage to her misplaced aggression.

The remnants of tears dried in his eyes as he sped over the park.  He risked a glance over his shoulder; Valerie was only a few yards back, her board ready to fire.

_Crap._ He rolled in midair, dodging the worst of it, but a few violet bolts clipped his arm.  Hissing, he pulled it in to his chest.

Wrong move.  The brief flinch gave her opening for another shot.  This time it came in the form of a net that engulfed him.  An electric pulse paralyzed his muscles; the tight wire mesh pinned his limbs and sent him crashing towards the ground.  He clenched his teeth to hold in a pained scream.

Getting rejected from college suddenly didn’t seem like such a big deal.

XXX

She’d done it this time.  No Danielle to worry about; none of Vlad’s plans tying her hands. She’d caught Phantom fair and square.

Or was it?  He’d been crying…

She shook her head, scooping up the net holding him while he shouted.

“You don’t know what you’re doing!  Seriously, _four years!_ When are you going to get over your stupid grudge?!”

“When you put my life back together,” she growled.  He squirmed in the net, but wouldn’t get free.  This was the last of the equipment she’d saved from Vlad, and she’d done a bit of extra tinkering on her own.  The wires would shock him at any use of his ghostly tricks - something it had already done, if the scorch marks crossing his suit and cheeks were any indication.

“It’s not my fault you’re obsessed with hunting ghosts!  You didn’t have to throw your grades away hunting me!”

“Shut up!”  She jabbed her elbow into his ribs before adjusting her grip and reactivating her board.

It _was_ his fault _,_ his fault her father had lost his job, his fault she’d spent the last four years working fast food, his fault she had to - she had to -

But did she?  Did she really _have_ to hunt ghosts more nights than not?  Yeah, she did.  She couldn’t trust the town’s defense to this ghost scum, who caused as much damage as he prevented as far as she was concerned.  Even the Fentons agreed that he couldn’t be trusted, that he was probably just acting on some unfathomable obsession.  Even the tears he’d cried - the tears -

But ghosts couldn’t cry.

But she’d seen his wet face, before her anger had taken over.

But ghosts couldn’t - they _physically_ couldn’t -

She heard sniffling.  Her board slowed.

“What?”  He finally snapped, though his voice was hoarse.  “You already know what a pathetic loser I am.  Why hide it.”  His voice died off at the end, more like he was talking to himself than her.

She slowed her board to a stop, then swung his net off of her shoulder to look at him.  Light as he was, it was still a bit awkward to hold him at arm’s length.  It didn’t help that he was upside down, his face smushed into his shoulder.

“You’re crying.”

“Yeah, and you’re being a heartless pain in my neck,” he grumbled.  

“Why?”  She asked, surprising herself.  Not _how,_ not _what kind of trick is this._ Why.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he snapped back.  It took her a moment to realize he was referring to the _heartless pain in my neck_ comment, and she scowled.

“Why are you _crying.”_ Though she wasn’t sure she cared now, if he was going to be such a - such a -

“...I don’t want to talk about it.”

His voice was low but stubborn, and it reignited the stubborn streak in herself.  Getting answers out of him wouldn’t be that easy; she knew that.  She forced herself to shrug, as if he wasn’t getting under her skin already.

“Alright.  Guess I’ll just figure it out while you’re chained to a lab table.”

He flinched at that, as much as he could while still in the net, anyway.

“Does that mean you’ll let me go if I tell you?”

She snorted.

“Right.  In that case I’ll keep my last shred of dignity to myself, thanks.”

The snark was back in his voice, but his green eyes didn’t show it.  Their glow was dimmer than she’d ever seen it.  And they were still rimmed with red.  How badly did she want to know?  It wasn’t like it would be easy to capture Phantom again.  It had been a stroke of luck this time - he’d been out of it, she could tell. Maybe because Skulker had already done a number on him today.  Or maybe because he’d been crying.

As much as she hated it, this would haunt her if she didn’t find the answer.  And if it was something sensitive enough to make a _ghost_ cry - impossibly - she wasn’t sure she could just torture it out of him.

“Fine.  I’ll let you go if you tell me.”

“Promise?”  He asked skeptically.

“I-“ she suddenly remembered the last time they’d made a promise.   _He’d_ made a promise.  When they were rescuing Danielle.  And he’d kept it.

“I promise,” the words rolled off her tongue, like a noose around her neck.  Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the way he really _did_ look pathetic, but she would keep it.  A promise for a promise.  This time.

“Let me go first,” he tried.  Maybe because he just wanted to escape; maybe because he didn’t trust her word.  She had to admit that either reason was valid.

“Nice try.”

He forced a small grin.  It quickly faded though.

“I had a rough day,” he mumbled.  “From the sound of it, you did too.  You ever let yourself cry, Red?”

The question stunned her.  Some kind of ghost trick, it sounded like. Getting the attention off himself.

“No,” she lied.  “But you’ll be doing more of it if you don’t give me a real answer.”

“Fine, fine.”  He sighed.  But he didn’t offer an answer.  His eyes closed.

“Well?”  She gave the net a little shake.  He was obviously buying time, but why?  What lie could he come up with that would be better than the truth?  Unless crying was somehow related to his weakness -

He laughed.  It was hollow, echoing, dead as the trees around them.

“What’s it matter, anyway?  I can’t keep this up forever.  Not when we’re both stuck in this town for the rest of our lives.”

Her brow creased.  What was he rambling about now?  She had half a mind to shoot him again.

“You’re not stuck here.  You can go back to the Ghost Zone and rot there for the rest of your afterlife.”

“You’re wrong about that.  But you didn’t stay _you’re_ not stuck here.  Because you are.  If you didn’t get into Elmerton, I’m guessing you didn’t get in anywhere else.  Again, stupid of them, but true, right?”  He didn’t pause for her to answer, or to ask how he knew she wanted to go to college in the first place.  “You’re not going to stop hunting ghosts.  It’s all you have left now.  I get that, but that also means you’re going to keep hunting _me_ forever, and… I’m tired.”

She saw it in his eyes.  The faint glow of ectoplasm, fading in and out with each breath.  Breaths he didn’t need to take, but insisted upon faking anyway.  She looked away, adjusting her grip on his net as she rubbed her shoulder.  Holding up a ghost shouldn’t make her this sore.

“I’m so tired, Val.”

Her eyes snapped back up when he said her name.  Her _real_ name.  And not just that but - he had no right to call her by her nickname!

“How do you know my name?!”

He cracked another empty grin.

“How hard do you think it would be to find out?  I have ghost powers; I could’ve followed you anywhere - but I didn’t.”  He sighed, moved his arm as if to rub his neck, but the net didn’t allow that much movement.  “I’m too used to lying,” he muttered before finishing, “We’ve known each other for a long time.  Longer than you know.”

Now he was _clearly_ trying to trick her.  She grit her teeth and pointed her gauntlet at his head, the other arm trembling as she held him up.

“Shut up, Phantom!”

He winced.  “You’re right.  That did sound bad.  Look, I might be able to think better if all the blood wasn’t rushing to my head-“

“You don’t _have_ blood.”

He laughed.  It felt a bit more real - more alive? - than his last one.

“Tell that to my migraine.  But seriously.  If you won’t let me out of the net, at least flip me over.”

“Fine.”  Only because she was sick of talking in circles with him.  Besides, if she set him down, that gave her two hands to shoot him with.  She powered down her board and set him upright against a thick maple.

“Much better.”  He smiled, but the sadness had crept back into his eyes.  “Alright.  Where were we?”

She had a hundred more questions now, and a hundred percent less patience.  So she fell back on her original one.  Her fists clenched and unclenched with each word.

“Why were you crying?”

“Right.”  He tried to rub his neck again; even at his new upright position, the netting had shrunk to pin his spectral form.  “Fine.  No more games.  But… you’re going to have to ask yourself a question, too.  You’re going to learn something tonight if you push this.  And you’re not going to like it.”

She frowned.  Something about this had to do with her?  Or was it just more stalling?  He looked serious, more serious than he usually did.  No cocky smirk graced his face.  A face that looked older than she remembered.  It had been a long time since she’d caught him up this close.  But ghosts didn’t age, either.

“Just tell me, Phantom.”  If there was one thing they could agree on, it was that they were tired - and not just because of the late hour.

“That’s what I thought.”  He sighed.  “You still have my rejection letter?”

“Your-?”  She did still have the letter; she’d stuffed it into her left gauntlet, just in case.  “But it’s addressed to-“

“Daniel.  I know. Trust me, I’ve read it enough times,” he said bitterly.  She barely heard.  

“You’re telling me a _ghost_ wanted to go to college.”

He shut his eyes, smacking his head back against the tree.  “You really don’t get it, do you!  Sheesh, maybe Elmerton was right to reject you after all.”

Sick of his words - especially _those_ words - she blasted him.  Point-blank.  It would’ve been a solid hit, if it weren’t for the fact that the netting absorbed the majority of her blast.  Stupid; if a ghost couldn’t blast its way through, then neither could she.

Phantom still looked fazed, though. He curled up tighter, only allowing the net to constrict him further.

“This isn’t easy, you know!  I’ve never told anyone - I’ve never had to - I _hate_ this!”  He finally yelled - not just yelled, but _wailed._ It was a small one - nothing like the massive destruction he could’ve caused - but the net wasn’t built to withstand a ghostly wail, especially not after the blast she’d given it.  The net barely sent out an electric shock before the wires shredded around him.  She threw up her hands to block the spectral sound waves, but still skidded back several feet, her ears ringing.

“Phantom-!”  Her own voice sounded faint in her ears, like they were stuffed with cotton.  His groan came back even fainter.

“Nngh…”

She’d expected him to use that opportunity to flee, but he didn’t.  As if that attack had taken the remainder of his fading energy, he collapsed onto his hands and knees.

“Nngh… no… I don’t want to… like this…!”

What was he doing?  His teeth grit from effort, but he didn’t seem to be preparing another attack.  His arms trembled; she stepped back, just in case.  Just because he looked like he was in pain didn’t mean he was.  This whole encounter was even more confusing than his usual antics.

White rings formed around his middle, and she was glad she’d taken the precaution.  She crossed her forearms and formed a magenta shield from her gauntlets.

“Gah-!”  He let out a final gasp, and - nothing.  The rings of light snapped back, pulling into his core.  Phantom was left breathing raggedly in the leaves.

She had half a mind to shoot her last net, but… he was right about something else.  He _did_ look pathetic.  Tears were pricking his eyes again, only visible with the enhanced vision of her helmet.  Something uncomfortable squirmed in her chest.  Guilt?  Pity?  Nothing she should have to feel towards the ghost boy.  

But she did only have one net left. It might be worth saving.

“What was that?”  She demanded, trying not to let her conflicting emotions enter her voice.

He let out a soft moan.  Guilt pricked at her again.  Why?  Why did he have to sound so… _human_ this time?  She’d never seen him so vulnerable before, even during the brief time she’d captured him.  He’d been too determined to save Danielle that time.  This time, it felt like he’d just… given up.  Like he didn’t even care.

She should be happy, shouldn’t she?  At least if he was finished, then her four years of ghost hunting meant something. Not getting into college meant something.  Right?

“...Phantom?”

He pulled his arms around himself as she crept closer.

“I’ve got to tell her,” she heard him murmur.  “I should’ve just changed, I’m just making it harder… I can’t even get this right…”

“I can hear you, you know.”  It wasn’t the most sensitive reply.  She wasn’t sure why she cared.  Maybe at this point she was just embarrassed for him.  Her greatest enemy had become a muttering mess, and she still didn’t know why.  She’d rather have his ridiculous cocky banter than watch this.

He laughed a little.  “‘Course.  Gah, this is so embarrassing…”

He hissed in pain, but shoved himself back so he was sitting on his heels.  He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes, which were so dull by now, they almost looked human.  The squirming in her chest intensified as she crouched in front of him.  What could she say?  She didn’t feel right making more demands of him, as much as she wanted to.  She half expected him to just break down in tears again if she did.

Instead she pulled the Elmerton letter out of her gauntlet and smoothed out the majority of the wrinkles.

“So… does this belong to you or not?”

He barked out a laugh.  “I wish it didn’t.  Wouldn’t have ended up in this mess.  You keep it.”

“Thanks, but no.  One’s enough for me.”  She crumpled it again and flicked it at him.  He laughed for real at the childish action as it bounced off his forehead.

“I still can’t believe it.  You and me, stuck here in this heckhole.”

“ _Heckhole_?”  She raised an eyebrow.  He shrugged with a grin.  His sudden mood swings were dizzying to follow.

“Mom doesn’t like swearing.”

She wouldn’t exactly count _hell_ as a swear, but that was the least of her questions.  Why would he go through so much effort to hide any scrap of information, then suddenly let out details about his mom of all things?

“You’re making that face again.  Trying to figure it all out, aren’t you?”  He shifted to a more comfortable position, sitting cross-legged.  Not the best position for a quick escape, unless he just morphed his legs into a ghostly tail.  No matter how he tried to put her at ease, she couldn’t let down her guard.

“You’re not making it easy,” she said, and he sighed.

“Telling the truth doesn’t come easy to me anymore.  Not after four years of… this.”  He waved a hand vaguely.

Four years.  Four years ago, he’d first appeared in Amity.  Not long after that he’d trashed Axion and put her on the path to becoming the Red Huntress.  Changing her future forever.

“...Is that when you died?”  She got up the nerve to ask.  It might have been the first question she hadn’t worded as an accusation.  Maybe that’s why he smirked and shook his head.

“You could say that.”  He frowned.  “There I go again.  This would be so much easier if you’d figured it out yourself.  I really thought you would, after Danielle.”

Danielle?  What did the half-ghost have to do with anything?  Sure, Phantom might have helped the girl, but that didn’t make him innocent of everything else.

“Just get to your point, Phantom.”  Her guilt was wearing off, now that he looked fine again.  She had no way of knowing his emotions hadn’t been faked to begin with.

One last sigh, and then finally - _finally -_ he met her eyes.  His were glowing again, with both ectoplasm and determination.

“I’m sorry, Val.”

She flinched back from the name and from the white rings engulfing him.  This time they didn’t snap back - they spread apart, sweeping over the upper and lower halves of his body.  When she blinked the spots out of her eyes, she saw the last thing she expected.

Staring back at her with nervous eyes was Danny Fenton.


	2. Future

She’d been out too late.  She must have fallen asleep, or be hallucinating, or - or _something._ It was a trick, a new ghost power, anything besides what it looked like.

Phantom _couldn’t_ be Danny Fenton.  It didn’t make sense. It just… _didn’t_.

Danny - Fenton or Phantom - still sat cross-legged, narrow shoulders drowning in an oversized red hoodie.  An exact replica of the hoodie he’d worn all winter, down to the half-stitched tears on the left sleeve.  How would Phantom know that?  Had he been stalking Danny?  Had he known about her tenuous friendship with him?  It had been so long since they’d really hung out, but it wasn’t like there were many people Phantom could impersonate to get to her.  But even if it was a trick, it was working, to some extent.  Could she really point an ectogun at Danny Fenton, even if her mind told her it couldn’t possibly be him?  

His previous mask of determination cracked with every second that she spent wordlessly staring.

“Valerie…?”  Danny’s voice.  Phantom’s voice?  They were more similar than she’d realized, though Phantom’s usually had an uncanny echo.  Could he really be…?  No, of course not.  She hardened her gaze, for all the good it would do through her helmet.

“Nice try, Phantom.  Danielle told me she and Vlad are the only half-ghosts.”

His now-blue eyes widened - so she’d called his bluff.

“Uh- wait, you know about Vlad now?  And you’ve talked to Danielle since-?”

“She’s stopped by,” Valerie explained curtly, cutting Danny - Phantom - off.  She chose not to acknowledge the Vlad comment; she didn’t want to admit that the ghost boy had been right about his evil nature.  As for Danielle, that had been a bit more than ‘stopping by’ - the girl had run into trouble a few times, and after everything, she trusted Valerie to help patch up her injuries.  Strange that she’d gone to her instead of Phantom, but that only proved to Valerie that the ghost boy couldn’t be trusted.

“The point is,” she continued, “if you were _really_ Danny Fenton, she would’ve told me.”

This imposter’s face looked blank for a few moments.  Then, unexpectedly, he let out a breathless chuckle.

“That explains a lot, actually.  No wonder you didn’t figure it out.”  He shook his head.  “Do you have any idea who Danielle is?  How she even exists?”

“Well…” The question caught her off guard; she really didn’t know much.  Danielle had a knack for evading questions - a trait she shared with Phantom.  Which actually reminded her...  “She said she was your cousin, right?”

“That’s what we call each other.  It feels more normal than… well, she needs the sense of family.  I’m all she’s got.”  He frowned, still curled up nervously against the tree.  The worried quirk of his eyebrows was so like Danny, those few times he’d trusted her enough to show it.  Damn, why did it have to be him?  She’d thought she was past this, and - and she nearly missed the rest of what the ghost was saying.

 “Besides you, apparently.  But anyway.  She wouldn’t give up my secret without asking me.  That’s why she never told you.”

She shook her head, refocusing.

“Never told me that you’re Danny.  Fenton.”

He picked up on the skepticism in her voice and grit his teeth.  It didn’t intimidate her in this disguise; if anything, he just looked cute when he was angry.  Or was that the angle he was actually trying to play?  She kept her face hard as stone, determined not to let him get to her.  She nearly summoned an ectogun from her shoulder before he huffed and started talking again.

“You don’t believe me?  Fine.  We were in the same class in fifth grade.  You got stuck as my lab partner when we dissected owl pellets.  I did all the work because I was used to touching gross stuff in my parents’ lab, and you didn’t want to get ‘owl barf’ on your shirt.”

He looked up at her, blue eyes glinting from the filtered starlight.  He - how did he - _she_ barely remembered that.  Even if he had some kind of mind-reading ability, he couldn’t have found that from her.

 Maybe… the simplest answer was the best one.  Especially considering what she did know about half-ghosts.  Danielle’s human form had looked pretty similar to Danny, and their transformations were nearly identical.  Her gut reaction had been wrong; the more she thought about it, the more it made _too much_ sense.

But Danny couldn’t see those thoughts weave through her mind; all he saw was her blank mask.  His gaze tried to meet her eyes, but in the dim light he focused on a spot closer to her nose.

“ _Please,_ Valerie.  It’s me.  It’s always been me.”

Danny.  Danny Phantom.  Danny Fenton.  He hadn’t even changed his name.  If it really was… it _was,_ though.  How else could he remember fifth grade?  Phantom hadn’t even existed then.

She cursed, and he flinched back.  The same way Danny always flinched back from Dash before getting shoved against a locker.  If he was really Phantom, he wouldn’t have put up with that, right?  But he _was_... and he did.  Maybe because a stupid school bully wasn’t worth the effort after taking hits from guys like Skulker and Vlad and - and _her._

She cursed again. “How many times have I shot you?”

His eyes widened, like that wasn’t the question he was expecting.  From the way his legs tensed to jump, he might not have been expecting a question at all.

“Oh.  Uh...  I’ve lost count.”

For once it was her turn to wince.  

“But I fought you, too.  It wasn’t just you,” he quickly added.  “I - I wish I didn’t have to, but - well, uh, I didn’t really want to die again, so…”

She’d stopped listening, too caught up piecing the puzzle together.  His voice was the same; she’d been right about that.  And now that she looked for it, the physical similarities were striking too.  His disheveled hair, his lean but slightly muscled build.  His small nose splotched with barely-visible freckles that had glowed a soft green, then faded to brown when he’d transformed into… Danny.

Phantom was _Danny_.

“...Valerie?”  He asked softly.  “Please, I… know this is a lot to take in, but uh… please don’t freak out-“

She slapped him.  Completely on reflex, and completely stupid.  Shame immediately flooded her face.  He’d just shown her that he was both her greatest enemy _and_ her ex-boyfriend, and she didn’t know which one he’d been first, or what this made him now -

“I probably deserved that,” he muttered, rubbing his face.  “Least she didn’t shoot me…”

“I’m not going to shoot you!”  She shouted, clenching her fists.  “I’m just - damn, it really _is_ you, isn’t it.”

Once her brain caught up to her emotions, more pieces fit beyond just his physical appearance.  Why he was always running out of class.  Why he always looked dead on his feet (no pun intended).  Why he’d always felt like he was hiding something from her, even when they’d almost been dating.

“...Yeah.  It is.”  He still looked tense, ready to bolt at any moment.  Had she really made him that…? She sighed; of course he was still afraid.  She hadn’t exactly given him a reason to trust her.  She’d even _slapped_ him, like some jealous girlfriend who found out she’d been cheated on.  He might have been her enemy - still be her enemy? - but he didn’t deserve that.  Did he?

Suddenly another realization hit her, filling her with a hot mix of anger and betrayal.

“You’re the one who got my dad fired.”

“That was an accident, I swear!  The ghost dog - and I had to-“ He sighed, dropping his head into his hands.  “I’m sorry, Val.  I never meant to ruin your life.  I never meant for _any_ of this to happen.”  And then quieter: “I just wanted to be an astronaut.”

Somehow the weak, very human statement grounded her.  The anger slowly trickled from her blood, leaving only emptiness.

Phantom was Danny.  Danny was Phantom.  She would sort through the baggage that came with that later, when she was more fully conscious.  Right now she needed to focus on cleaning up what damage she could, not causing more.

She let the particles of her suit dissolve off, compressing back into the soles of her shoes.  It left her in a thin yellow sweater and jeans - barely any protection from the cold, and no protection from the vulnerable ghost boy in front of her.  The darkness of the night suddenly felt more oppressive, and she fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself.

“I’m not good at this, but… I’m sorry too,” she whispered through the sudden lump in her throat.  It wasn’t enough.  She could have - _would have -_ killed him, given the chance.  She tried to imagine Danny not showing up to school one day.  A week.  A month.  No one knowing what had happened, because she’d been stupid enough to _kill him._

_“Sorry,”_ she mocked herself.  “I was going to kill you, and all I can say is _sorry?”_ She wanted to punch something again, but without her suit she was more likely to just scrape open her knuckles.

“Really, Val, it’s okay.  You didn’t know,” he assured her quickly.

“No, it’s _not_ okay!  Why didn’t you tell me?!  I gave up hunting Danielle!  I would’ve stopped hunting you too, but you just _let_ me!  Why!?”

She had no right to make outbursts like that.  Sure, he’d fought her too, but she’d been the one hunting him.  The more she thought about it, the more she realized he’d never tried to pick a fight.  He’d known her identity all this time; he easily could have.  He could’ve shown up at her house, when she was sleeping, and that would’ve been the end of the Red Huntress.  That realization would have humbled her even if his next words hadn’t.

“I was afraid,” he answered softly.  “I’ve always been afraid.  And… ashamed.  I didn’t want you to blame me for… well, everything.”

Everything she’d just blamed him for. Her father’s job.  Not getting into college.  Wasting the last four years of her life.

All over a stupid, stupid _misunderstanding._

Water squeezed out from her shut eyes.

“Damn it, Danny.  I... I forgive you.”  She never thought she’d say those words.  She couldn’t quite say _It’s not your fault -_ even if it might technically not be.  But she could forgive him.  She could share the blame for putting herself in this mess.  Between falling for Vlad Masters’ lies, and this - all _this -_ she certainly deserved it.

“R-really?”  He asked.

“Don’t make me say it again,” she muttered, eyes still shut.  Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands as she mustered the courage to say something even more difficult.

“I get it if you can’t, but… can you forgive me too?”  It physically hurt to ask.  He had every right not to, no matter what he’d said.  She’d tried to _kill_ him.

“Of course, Val.  I always have.”

She opened her eyes.  He was smiling, still nervously, but smiling.  She couldn’t quite force one back.

“Why are you telling me this now?”  She asked, wiping her eyes with the back of her thumb.  She was grateful that he didn’t point out that the Red Huntress did in fact cry.

“I tried to tell you.  We’re both stuck here, right?”  His fragile smile instantly vanished.  “No college.  No future.”

Even though it was more or less what she’d told herself, she frowned at hearing it from him.

“Not everyone has to go to college, you know.”  She argued mostly for the sake of arguing; she felt that same defeat settling in her bones.

“You do to get into NASA,” he muttered.  She shuffled forward to lean against the tree he was sitting by.

“And you do to be an engineer,” she added, stretching out her legs with a sigh.  He looked up at her in surprise.

“You wanted to be an engineer?”

Her lips twitched downward at the past tense.   _I_ still _want to be an engineer._ Even if the circumstances looked grim, she couldn’t say she’d given up.  Grays fought harder than that.

“Yeah.  Seeing all that tech that Vlad and your parents could make made me curious.  Plus I’ve always wanted to do something everyone thinks women can’t do.”  Those weren’t the only reasons, but she didn’t feel like mentioning that she wanted to make her own ghost-hunting equipment, tech she knew she could trust.  That _might_ be insensitive under the circumstances.

“Heh.  You sound like Sam.”  He smiled.  “I can’t imagine anyone telling _you_ not to do something.”

She snorted.  “Tell that to Elmerton.”  And the five or so other nearby universities she’d applied to, but he didn’t need to know that.

His shoulders drooped again.  “I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I made my choice.”  Sure, maybe it wasn’t _exactly_ her choice to work at Nasty Burger, which cut into her study time, but she could’ve cut back on ghost fighting at least some nights.  That was tied up with her her distrust of Phantom - Danny - but her pride was an even bigger motivating factor.  

Huh.  Her choice.  Her pride.  Her responsibility.  Finally admitting that hurt, but it was somehow freeing, too.  Like digging out a splinter.  How long had that pent-up anger been draining her?

“That’s why you’re failing too, isn’t it?  The ghost fighting I mean,” she clarified.  

He rubbed his calf absently; she recalled the cut he’d had there in Phantom form.  Was it still there, stinging under his jeans?  And how many other cuts and bruises had he hidden under that baggy red hoodie?

“You’ve seen Phantom.  He - I’m out fighting more nights than not.”

“And during class.”  She never - okay, rarely - skipped for ghost attacks, but only because he’d usually taken care of them before she found out.  

He nodded, but looked away.  “I don’t regret what I did - what I do.  People need me.  I can’t just _not_ help.  But it’s still - its a lot sometimes, you know?”

“Actually, yeah,” she was surprised to realize.  The two of them had more in common than she ever would have imagined.  Double lives.   _Dangerous_ double lives.  And, apparently, both getting rejected from college.

“Do you ever wish it wasn’t on you?”  She asked.  “Do you ever just want to be…”

“Normal?”  He chuckled, then shrugged.  “Sometimes.  Doesn’t everyone?”

“Not your girlfriend,” Valerie replied, not with any malice.  Whatever fragmented feelings she might have left for Danny, it was obvious how the boy felt about Sam.  Valerie wasn’t like Paulina; she didn’t have any intention of putting herself between the two of them.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Danny said with a sigh.  Valerie raised an eyebrow.  It had been a long time since she’d heard the practiced denial - because at least this year, the two of them _were_ dating.

“She’s going to school in New York.”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “We… we talked about it a little over a week ago.  Once I knew for sure I wasn’t getting in.  I can’t hold her back like that.”

“Danny-“ Valerie didn’t know what to say, especially when he sniffed wetly.

“‘S fine.  We’re still friends, we’ll _always_ be friends.  Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be.  It’s still gonna be hard though, with her and Tuck gone.  That’s why I had to tell you this.”

She thought she understood, now.  At first she’d been surprised at how much he’d shared, but if that was true, he really had no one left.  His sister was already in college.  His parents presumably didn’t know his secret, considering how they still hunted Phantom almost as religiously as Valerie herself.  She didn’t doubt that Sam and Tucker knew, though; that explained too much.  But now there was just… her.  

“I’m glad you did,” she finally replied, somewhat surprised to find that she meant it.  She was still a little angry at how much he’d hidden from her, but that had gone both ways.  And… maybe this could help her, too.  She _didn’t_ have to fight ghosts every night, not if she could trust Danny - _Phantom,_ surreal as that was - to help.  She could study more, pull her grades up -

Only it was still too late for that, wasn’t it?

Danny saw the stormcloud that rolled over her face.

“Val?”  He asked nervously.

“I just wish you’d told me before - ugh.”  She dropped her face into her hands.  Here she was still worried about her future, when she’d almost made sure he didn’t have one.  “Nevermind.”

“Maybe I should have.”  He studied his shoes, the toes pointed together.  “It feels good, actually.  Telling someone on my own terms.  You’re taking it better than I expected, honestly.”

“Really?”  She looked up and raised an eyebrow.  He grinned out the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t see any ectoguns pointed at me, so…”

“Hey, I let Danielle go,” she defended herself.

“Yeah, but Danielle didn’t ruin your life,” he muttered, hands fiddling with the ends of his long sleeves.

“ _You_ didn’t ruin my life, Danny,” she said, hoping he’d realize that she meant it.  She almost wished she could still blame him, but she couldn’t.  Not when he looked like… _this_.  Not just the fact that he was Danny Fenton, but that he looked as exhausted as she felt.  He’d been dealing with problems as big as hers.  If not bigger.

He scratched the back of his neck.  “Still wish I could fix it.”

_That makes two of us._ She looked up through the crosshatching of branches above them.  If it weren’t for the bitter wind biting through her sweater, too visceral for a dream, she’d still hardly accept that this was real.  Danny, Phantom.  She was going to have to sleep on that.  And she’d thought the hardest revelation of the day was that she wouldn’t be going to college.

“You know…” Danny finally broke the weighted silence.  “It’s not college, but I bet my parents wouldn’t mind teaching you something about engineering and stuff.  They love any chance to talk about their inventions.”

“Really?”  She looked to him in surprise.  “You’d do that?  After I-”

“Accidentally tried to kill me?”  He shrugged, and his grin returned.  “You’re not the first, and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

She grimaced at that.  “Seriously, Danny.  You don’t have to help me.”

“I _want_ to,” he asserted, tucking his legs under him and leaning forward.  “It might not all be my fault, but I could’ve done better.  There were a lot of times I could’ve told you.  Or at least I could’ve made things easier.  I always had Sam and Tucker at least, but you - did you have anyone?”

That… wasn’t where she’d expected he was going.  She just shrugged.  Her dad had known her secret before, but she’d convinced him that the new suit was someone else playing copycat.  He worked in _security;_ if he had any idea that she was still playing hero, he’d lock down her room so tight even a ghost couldn’t break in.

“I handled it,” she replied guardedly.  It’s not like she would have accepted Phantom’s help before, even if he’d offered it.  Still, it _would_ have been nice to have a confidant, even if it was just to vent at the end of a long day.  Someone she didn’t have to lie to, someone who understood that what she did was necessary, that it was right - except when it wasn’t.  When she’d wanted to destroy Phantom.  Danny.

...Maybe it _was_ best that no one else knew that.

“You did,” he finally nodded somberly.  “You don’t have to now, though.  I mean - if you need someone - maybe I’m the last person you want to talk to, but, uh.  I’m here.”  His confidence petered out, his eyes gluing back to his shoes.

_I do want to talk to you,_ she didn’t say.  When was the last time she’d talked to anyone about anything that mattered?  He was right; it _did_ feel good.  Somehow, in spite of what she now knew she’d done, it did.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.  Another word she hadn’t said in a long time.  “What about you?  What are you going to do now?”

He ran a hand down his face.  “That’s what I’ve been asking myself.  It’s stupid - I should’ve planned for this years ago.  Even if I _did_ get into college somehow - possessed the head of admissions, I dunno - it’s not like I could leave.”

She squirmed at the mention of possession; he was just joking, right?  His tone shifted so quickly between humor and despair.  

“Why not?”  She settled for asking.

He raised his eyebrows, like it was a stupid question.  She supposed it was.

“Would you really leave, if you’d gotten in somewhere away from Amity?”

“No,” she answered point-blank.  She hadn’t even applied anywhere farther than two hours away - less than that by hoverboard.

“Why not?”  He pressed.  He obviously knew her answer, but she said it anyway.

“Ghosts aren’t going to move just because I do.  Somebody has to keep this town from falling apart.”

“Exactly.”  He smirked.  It was uncanny, him wearing that smug expression she was so used to seeing on Phantom.  “That’s what I’m here for.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him.  “Please, you can’t handle _all_ the ghosts on your own.”

“...Probably not,” he admitted, looking sheepish.  “To be honest, Val… this is gonna sound bad, but I’m glad you’re staying.”

She frowned; it did sound bad. She wouldn’t have wished that on him.

“I told you, I would’ve stayed anyway.”

“You’re right,” he corrected while leaning back on the palms of his hands.  “I guess I mean I’m glad you’re staying the Huntress.  Like, I can’t say I like getting shot at, but you’ve made my job easier the rest of the time.”

Alright, she could understand that.  And she grudgingly admitted that her barely-passing grades were probably due to Phantom taking care of the attacks during school.

“You know… I’m glad too,” she admitted.  Maybe not glad she’d failed out of college before even getting in, but she did love being the Red Huntress.  If it weren’t for Phantom - for Danny - that never would’ve happened.  She’d never know the thrill of flying faster than the wind, or the serenity of looking over the city at night.  She would’ve grown up just like Paulina and Star - maybe not _just_ like them, but staying in their shadows.  The most excitement she’d know would be a senior A-lister party.  The thought didn’t sound even remotely appealing now.  

In place of that flimsy life, she’d learned what it meant to work hard.  To stand up for what was right - even if she’d been wrong about Phantom, she’d still done more harm than good.  He’d told her that himself.  Whatever the causes that had led her here, that wasn’t something she could regret.  A knot of tension slowly untangled in her chest.

She suddenly grinned, surprising Danny.

“Who needs college, anyway?”  She shouted into the dark park.  It was hard to let go of the direction she’d always assumed life would take her… but she’d done it before.  She could do it again.

Danny jumped in surprise, then laughed.  “You’re right.  Who wants four more years of school anyway?  Besides, I’ve been to space once.  Who knows, Technus could always try stealing a satellite again.”

Right, she’d actually been there for that.  Right up until he’d knocked her unconscious, anyway.  Ironically, the memory made her feel a little better; he’d been pretty capable of sending back what she’d dished out. Either way, she didn’t want to dwell on their past fights right now.

“See?  Our lives aren’t over,” she said for herself as much as him.  Her life _wasn’t_ over.  Especially if he was serious about helping her work with his parents.  She only wished she had a suggestion for him in return… she’d sleep on it and see what she could do.

“Speak for yourself,” he said, but he was wearing a wry grin.  Then he let himself flicker out of sight.  She gasped for a second before rolling her eyes at the lame joke.

“Very funny, ghost boy.”  But she was smiling now too.

“It’s good to see that again,” he said, gesturing to her face.  “You smiling and all.  Usually you look ready to pummel someone.”  His eyes widened.  “Uh, I mean…”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to be pummeling you anymore.”  She said it lightly - she didn’t want to break this moment.  Because he was right - it _had_ been forever since she’d smiled.  

“Good.  Not that I’d let you,” he added, pointing a finger in mock seriousness.  She just laughed, something else she hadn’t done in forever. But sitting here with him, breathing in the crisp winter air…

She had the feeling that that could finally change.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty sure the editing on this chapter took twice as long as writing the fic itself, but I’m proud of it!  I hope you enjoyed this conclusion!


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